The Place of Suns
by Stylesus
Summary: Just imagine that, how great would that be if the LoTR characters were in a SCHOOL! Chapter Two is up now!please R&R!!!!! THANK YOU!
1. The Preparations

A School Version of The Lord of The Rings  
  
A/N: Wow! I've never ever thought about to write a school version of LoTR. Until one day, my friend suggested me to write a school version of LoTR. so... Here it is!  
  
Disclaimer: you all know the main idea of why we need a disclaimer when writing a fanfic and how! So, here I am: " I, own, nothing." There!  
  
Chapter One  
  
The Preparations  
  
The street was riproarious, smoky and dizzying. The cars or better call those "carriages" were the sources of noises. High pitch and low pitch and medium pitch were spurted people's ears. Cries, laughters, screamings, and yo-heave-ho were filled up the entire spaces. The riproarious, smoky and dizzying street was called The Genius Street, and nearby the street, was the best of bests school in the whole continent of Middle Earth, and it was called as "The Perfection School". And this day, this riproariou, smoky and dizzying day (does anyone use "riproariou", "smoky", or "dizzying" kind of words to describe a "day"? Perhaps my hands just prefer these sorts of words?) was ridiculously called as "The New Year". Maybe an academic "New Year" for Genius lives in Perfection life styles? And the answer is definitely "no". The real reason for this "New Year" was that day was the sign up day for "The Perfection School".  
  
A carriage on the right side of the Genius Street, near the gate of The Perfection School, enchased by sapphire and some other rare diamonds, was own by the host of Lothlorien-Galadriel. She was sitting in her exquisite carriage enjoyed the contaminative air of the Genius Street and complained about the "slowliness" her servants in the same time.  
  
"Come on, the time's running out," Galadriel complained her servants as she enjoyed the contaminative air of the Genius Street and prettified her long nails, "you don't want your venerable queen's marks less than others, do you?"  
  
"Right..." The servant answered painfully as the weight of the vat full of water slowly tortured him on his back.  
  
About one hundred and one point one one one meters behind Galadriel's exquisite carriage, there was a hamburger shaped carriage along the sideway (does Middle Earth have hamburger? Most likely it's some sort of unofficial history.), no wonder, it was the carriage of Hobbit.  
  
"Hey, Pip, anything left? I'm starving!" Merry cried out aloud, whose stomach was torturing him to dead.  
  
"Ha! Why not ask yourself? You've brought nine thousand and nine hundred and ninety-nine kilogram food for your three days of traveling, and you ate them at once. How can I help you now?" Pippin mocked at Merry, and suddenly remembered his one thousand kilograms (which was one ton of course. Really, mortal and Hobbit are different races after all, so, there are little bit of difficulties of understanding the "languages" of Hobbits.) of food was left no more either, but for his reputation, Pippin swallowed the words.  
  
"Ah! Master Merry! How I admire your capability of eating, and the craziness when you are dancing and singing. Food, isn't only the filling of your precious stomach, because it is also a filling of your precious mouth of teeth. Eating, isn't only the process of putting food into your mouth, because it is also a sport and exercise for your thoughts. So, keep your eating styles going on, you will be the star of the town!" Samwise Gamgee was certainly enjoy his opinions at food and eating, who wrote lots and lots of poems and articles about the philosophy and the real meaning of eating.  
  
"Great poem, Sam!" Frodo handclapped cheerfully when Sam finished the first paragraph of his speech of eating.  
  
"You are jumping and falling, jumping and falling, and jumping again, and falling again into the lures of food.." Sam continued and Frodo was still cheer for his faithful gardener.  
  
In the end of the year, Sam got the award of The Biggest Poem Star This Year-Gastrology Section. But that was afterwards, and it's not the main point of this story!  
  
Back to business, on the opposite sideway of where the Hobbits were, sat under a tree with fifteen thousand six hundred and seventy-nine leaves on it was Gandalf the White, who was blowing his fabulous smoke-ring in the shape of Saruman. As Gandalf delightedly looked at his masterpiece, he smiled evily. BANG! Saruman, ah, I mean the Saruman smoke ring exploded into pieces.. Gandalf laughed insanely at his great "firework".  
  
"Worm! Come here!"  
  
"Worm! Go there!"  
  
"Worm! Do this!"  
  
"Worm! Do that!"  
  
Well, no need to explain, you all know who this is, but the problem is, I still have to mention his name in the following paragraphs.  
  
Saruman the White was drafting his What'zit Machine on a blank paper, and was blowing out the smoke-rings in the shape of the Fellowship. BANG! BANG! BANG! The Fellowship vanished into smokes. Well, they were smoke-rings anyways. Saruman mocked at the "frail" Fellowhip mental disorderly.  
  
The above seven persons are the typical ones. And where were Aragorn, Arwen, Legolas, Gimli, Elrond and lots more? Maybe this is a suitable answer: they were still on their way to the "The Perfection School", and were marching in the terrible sandstorm of Gondor. 


	2. Time For The Beginning

Chapter Two  
  
Time For The Beginning  
  
It was the middle of the day. The solar energy was generously spread over people's heads. While the hilarious continues, the building of the Perfection School was shining, and showing off with its pride and deride.  
  
People start getting busier and busier: the "sign in" is prepared.  
  
So, fortunately, the others were there just in time (I've mentioned the names in the last chapter last paragraph). And each one of them had either pieces of cucumber or slices of pawpaw or even clumps of durian on either their copper like faces or eagle like noses or tractor like mouths or streetlight like eyes or even hippo like teeth. Theses natural fruits used to protect those natural organs from the natural torment of the sandstorm of Gondor. But, not anymore. Now, they wanted to get rid of the natural stuffs, since the others were delightedly called them as "the aliens from the Natural Market".  
  
"Well, that is actually a good name!" Legolas said the several words with a grin, an ever-bigger grin on his tractor mouth.  
  
"Oh, yeah, calling you 'alien from the Nartural Market' while you dancing around with cucumbers on your hippo teeth!" Aragorn was tearing his natural fruit with exploded violence.  
  
"Hey! Aragorn, be artistic! This name is very nonfigurative!" complained Legolas.  
  
"But, isn't that suppose to be very visual?" said Arwen. And I agree with Ms or Mrs. Arwen. Yes, visual, very visual!  
  
Anyways, it's not hard to imagine the king of Gondor or the ruler of Rivendell with such natural fruits on their "venerable faces".  
  
The "sign in" is now in well preparations, sooner or later, the Perfect Bell will play the Perfect Ring and say welcome to the perfect students.  
  
The sun was high and the air was contaminative. It was a busy day, everything was moving, just as your teacher taught you in your science class: everything is MOVING.  
  
It's hard to believe that there was a specialized counter for Hobbits to sign up. Everything, everything in it was small, a small Hobbitic world after all.  
  
The Perfect Bell began to make its Perfect Ring in a perfectly sound.  
  
The "sigh up" had begun and the idiotic was started. They were twins. 


	3. The Recess of Hobbits

Chapter Three  
  
The Recess of Hobbits  
  
"Wow, Hobbit! It's hot here!" complained Pippin.  
  
"Um. Mr. Frodo, is-----" Sam asked in a hesitate voice and ignored Pippin.  
  
"No complains! We are living in an equally world. So, that's means, we are equal, if we don't complain, you don't have to complain either." Frodo interrupted his poetry gardener and started to enjoy his little speech.  
  
"But Mr. Frodo." again, it was Sam the faithful gardener.  
  
"So, you see, it should be like that. We are suppose to be the same, we are suppose to share everything, even the temperature that you just felt. Sharing is a key to solve the problems. For example, if you felt hot, as a friend, I know it's your burden, so we could share our ice cream with you as the key to solve this hot problem." Frodo was obviously immersed in this factitious speech.  
  
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked in whispers.  
  
"Any question about the sharing problem?"  
  
"No, I mean, is Hobbit an interjection?"  
  
"Sure", Frodo said confidently, "it is. wait for me consider about it."  
  
Twenty minutes later.  
  
"Oh yeah, oh yeah. Hobbit is an interjection. See here?" Frodo point to a word with the length of one meter for each letter, "Hobbit: int. and non. A summon of food, or the richness. Example."  
  
"Such an honor to have a friend like this." Merry whispered.  
  
"Yup, a very complicated philosopher." Answered Pippin.  
  
There, at the top of a twenty meters high hill, was the small world for its suitable students. As the Hobbits climbing the hill, the recess was farther, and the time for truth was closer. 


End file.
